Sweet Like Honey
by ChocoKoko
Summary: Lucia comes to live with the Witwicky family because she is basically on 'medical leave', due to her broken leg. After events like the arrest of her friends and rumors of Mission City, she feels as if Sam and Mikaela are hiding something from her, and she has a feeling it has something to do with that Camaro...but they're not the only ones holding a secret. BumblebeexOC.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers.

* * *

I stood in front of the house that seemed to bring back memories from a long time ago. Taking a deep breath, I gently pushed open the gate that separated me and the house.

Hesitantly, I knocked on the door, adjusting my left crutch at a better position. I took another deep breath of air when I heard locks clicking open.

"Oh...oh my GOD!" The scream that belonged to Mrs. Witwicky erupted around my ears as she engulfed me into a hug. "LUCIA DEAR! IT'S BEEN SO LONG!"

"Um..." my voice came out muffled and unheard, being drowned out by the loud sobs of Mrs. Witwicky.

"We thought you were dead!" she sniffed. Oh, Mrs. Witwicky, no matter how much I respect you as a fellow friend of your son, please do not use me as your tissue.

"Can't...breathe..." Nope, I was still unheard.

"Oh Lucia, we are so glad to have you back! You'll have so much fun with Sam, and-Oh! Sam doesn't know you're here!" her voice went down a little, and my lung was getting ready to explode. "RON! GET SAM! WE HAVE A GUEST!"

"Who is it, for crying out loud?" Mr. Witwicky asked, stepping outside.

"It's Lucia! The one we thought dead!" Mrs. Witwicky said happily. My arms were slumped as were my legs. Oh gosh, maybe I was going to die again...

"Oh. Well, she already gave a call a few days, an-would you let the poor girl go already?" Mr. Witwicky irritably asked. Mrs. Witwicky did, and I let in a great gulp of air.

"What do you mean she gave a call?" Mrs. Witwicky demanded.

"I mean that she's staying for a few weeks until her legs heals, and then she'll be ready for duty." Mr. Witwicky replied casually, as if letting a supposedly-dead person stay in your house and not telling your wife was a great idea.

"B-but you KNEW?"

"Yeah, so what?"

So the married couple proceeded in an argument that involved mostly insults. Such a weird pair...but they're also a great comic-relief pair when you need it, huh?

And, just to add to my humor, Sam stepped out in his pajamas.

"Yeah, Mom?" he asked, but turned to me, "Holy sh-"

He fainted.

"Yup...Sam's still the same..."

* * *

"So do you feel like greeting me properly or...?" I asked, holding out my arms. Sam glared at me.

"I'm not a little kid anymore, Lucia." he said back.

"What, I can't get a hug?" I put my arms back down, crossing them over my chest.

"So what're you doing home so early?"

I gave him a look that said, 'Really? Are you blind?', before sticking my casted foot, as best as I could, up in his face, "You think I could work with this?"

"Uh, I meant how'd you get it. After all, you're not part of the military," Sam held his arms up in surrender. I rolled my eyes.

"If you really must know," I placed my feet atop the table, since Sam was doing it as well. "I was investigating a case, and then, something attacked my group. I was the only one to make it alive."

Instantly, Sam brought me in a friendly hug, "I'm sorry."

"I've gotten over it," I sighed. Hey, I got a hug! "So, how's your life going? Got a girlfriend yet?"

Sam blushed and slammed a pillow in my face, "Shut it, Lucia."

"I'm taking that as a no," I rose an eyebrow. "You look kind of dressed up. Where are you going?"

"I was getting ready to go to the lake with Miles and my new car," he said the last three words proudly.

"A _car_?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yes, my first car."

"Well, what is it?" I asked, getting my crutches up.

"Come see for yourself, _oh great wise one_," Sam smirked.

"Don't push it, Witwicky."

* * *

"Not bad," I mused, "a 1970 Chevy Camaro with black racing stripes."

Sam puffed his chest with pride.

"So, where'd you get him?" I asked, poking it's tires to see if it was sustainable.

"You gave it a gender?" Sam asked in disbelief. I shrugged.

"It is a muscle car, genius."

"Oh. I got him at some dude's place," Sam shrugged, "would you believe he had a petting zoo? There was an ostrich!"

"You have got to be kidding me," my jaw dropped at the thought of an _ostrich _at a car lot.

"No, I'm not," Sam said plainly, "so, are you coming?"

"To where?"

"The lake, with me and-"

"I am not going with you and your friend," I rolled my eyes.

"Please? You get to ride in the Camaro," he sang, swinging his keys around.

As tempting as that may be... "Sorry Sam. As much as I love the Camaro, I'm not going."

"Please?" he had puppy eyes, going on both his knees and bowing down.

"Really, Sam?"

"Please? I'll be your best friend!" he whined. At that point, a song came out of nowhere.

_[Please~]_

"Sam..." I warned in a low voice, crossing my arms over my chest, my crutches leaning against my side.

"It wasn't me! It was the radio!" he protested, running towards the car, and hitting the radio. I rolled my eyes.

"_Fine_, seeing as I have no other choice left," I gave in, and Sam gave a cheer.

"Yes!" he cheered, and the radio burst to life, which resulted in Sam hitting it. "By the way, please take a look at my car later!" he grunted, punching the radio a little harder than necessary.

I rolled my eyes, and using my crutches, swept his feet from out under him, "With the way you're solving things, it might never be fixable."

"Yes mom," he said sarcastically, spitting out dirt.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers.

A/N: Oh dear, I didn't notice that I had so much questions. -.-'

They will be answered~

* * *

I felt like dozing off, really. The loud conversation in the front kept me from doing so, sadly.

"Are you sure we're invited to this party?" Miles asked.

"It's a public party!" Sam protested, pulling in. I finally couldn't take it anymore, so I used my crutches and whacked both of the teenagers on their head.

"Shut up!"

"Geez, violent..." Miles muttered, rubbing his head.

"What?" I asked, tilting my head curiously. Sam cut in, waving his hand around wildly.

"Alright, behave. I don't wanna look like a fool," Sam warned.

"You always look like a fool," I had a confused look on my face.

"Don't start with me."

* * *

Sam managed to persuade me to get out of the car, leading Miles and I to a medium-sized tree. What were we going to do with a tree?

My question was answered when Miles started to climb the tree...

"Poor tree," I shook my head, blonde hair hitting my face, "why, Sam? Why?"

"Look, it's Trent," Sam murmured nervously, shifting from foot to foot.

"Who's Trent?" I asked. "That blond over there? He looks familiar..."

"You're a blonde too," Sam countered, and then tried to fix his hair and 'look good', "help me Lucia!"

He said that in a tone that I interpreted as, 'I don't like this guy, please beat him up for me'.

"How can I beat him up?" I demanded, motioning to my leg covered in a cast.

"You could...step on his leg?" Sam offered, apparently not seeming to have thought of a good plan. I slapped my face in disbelief, before turning my attention up when I heard grass crunching. Trent's group was a few feet away.

"Hey, Witfricky," he greeted.

"It's Witwicky," Sam corrected.

"So what are you doing here?" Trent asked, crossing his arms over his chest to look 'intimidating'.

"We're here to climb this tree," Sam said. I facepalmed myself hard.

_Real smart, idiot! I_ thought, and my face felt hot, _Well, that's gonna leave a mark._

"So, what are you doing here?" Trent asked, face irritated, but it cleared up after when he turned his attention towards me. Oh no...

"Hanging with them," I nodded my head towards Sam, and I guess towards the idiot hanging upside-down from the tree.

"Why hang with these losers when you can hang with us?" he motioned to his group.

"Because, I'm friends with these losers." I shrugged. Sam gave a protest at my insult, but Miles...was being Miles.

"Well, you can be friends with us," he suggested. My eyebrow twitched.

_This guy does not know when to give up, does he?_

"Um, I don't want to be friends with you?" I offered innocently. If only this boy knew how old I was.

"Besides, I would appreciate it if you would stop hitting on me." I said, digging into my pockets for my badge. Luckily I had brought it. Huh.

"Yeah! Lucia's gonna kick your butt!" Sam cheered. My eyebrow twitched and I brought my foot over his, hoping the cast was heavy enough for him to feel some pain.

"He's just joking. But I can put you in jail for no apparent reason." I said, holding my badge in front of their face. That was obviously a lie but Trent bought it, for he turned tail and fled.

"That was awesome!" Sam gave me a friendly hug, "did you see that look on Trent's face?"

"Yeah, yeah," I waved it off, but I was smirking. I walked back to the car, carefully making my way to the back as the radio started to play the 'Jaws' theme.

"Huh. Weird," Sam muttered, getting in the driver's seat. It kept on switching between the Jaws theme and peppy music.

"Look Sam," I pointed towards the front, and Sam saw Mikaela walking off. Miles was trying to come in through the window.

_[Who's gonna drive you home tonight?]_

It suddenly switched broadcasts.

With an amused look on my face, I relaxed back into the seats as I watched the events that happened next.

"Get out of my car!" Sam said, shoving Miles' foot out. "You're gonna have to walk home!"

So after kicking Miles out of the car, he drove up to Mikaela.

"Can I ride you home?"

Well, that was a fail. I facepalmed again.

_I think my face looks so red people will think I drank too much,_ I groaned in her head. Mikaela got in the passenger seat.

"I can't believe I'm here," Mikaela stated.

"You can duck, it won't hurt my feelings. I mean, Lucia there is literally laying down," Sam suggested.

"I mean in this situation," Mikaela corrected, but quickly changed the subject, "so, what's your relationship?" she was asking.

"Best friends, and not going more than that," I said immediately, sitting up.

"Same here. Met in 3rd grade," Sam added.

"Besides, Sam here has a crush~" I sang. Sam gave me a warning look.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I'll take a nap. Go have your young dreams," I yawned, laying down.

"How old are you?" Mikaela asked.

"Never ask a girl her age," I scolded in a joking way, "but I'm 18." Well, there goes another lie.

"How'd you get that leg?"

_This girl is a curious one_, I thought.

"I was on a case, had a lead, thing attacked my group," I basically summarized the whole thing, closing my eyes. Luckily Mikaela didn't question it any further.

* * *

Well, that clears up most of the questions.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers.

* * *

I hugged my pillow, more like clutched it, in my sleep. I don't know how I could feel it, but I guess the burning pain in my broken leg explained it.

I felt sweat dripping down my back, and I gasped heavily, as if something was choking me. I think something WAS chocking me, but I can't know for sure.

Why can't I open my eyes? Maybe my eyes were open, but something happened, like someone was trying to-

"Lucia! Wake up!"

My eyes snapped open instantly, and I shot up. There was a yelp, which I recognized belonged to Mr. Witwicky.

"Yes Mr. Witwicky?"

"One, call me Ron, and two, Sam got arrested," Mr. Witwicky-err, I mean Ron, said. I arched an eyebrow.

"What?"

"You heard me. Now let's go to get him," he proceeded to walk out the door.

"Yes sir," I nodded, looking back to my leg. What happened before Ron woke me up? Why wasn't my eyes opening? Frightened, I hugged my pillow closer to my chest. I hope I never have to go through something like that ever again...

* * *

Sam was sitting in a chair, an interrogation chair I believe, with two officers interrogating him.

"Are Mojo pills something these teenagers take these days?" they asked him. They said Mojo's name wrong.

"Mojo is the name of my dog, those are pills for my dog, painkillers of sorts..." Sam tried to explain. One of them was about to asked him more, but this had gone far enough.

"Enough. Cease this foolish questioning," I ordered with my authorative voice. He sneered at me.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Lucia Jones, Federal Agent," I said, not going into the specifics. He was about to asked me where my badge is, but I beat him to that. I knew this would come in handy someday. I held it up, opening it to show my picture and badge. He spluttered, and the other officer said:

"Samuel Witwicky, you are dismissed. Sorry, Agent Lucia," he apologized.

* * *

"Cooooolll! Did you see that way those cops reacted?" Sam almost squealed. I snorted.

"Sure, and why exactly were you arrested?" he rubbed his neck sheepishly.

"You won't believe this, but I'll just tell you someone carjacked my car-"

"The Camaro?" I was onto him in a second, "where is it? what did you do with it? Tell me, Samuel." I ordered through gritted teeth, hands holding up his shirt collar and him dangling in the air in less than 5 seconds. I wasn't putting weight on my leg though, so don't worry.

'I-it's gone. Sorry Lucia," he muttered. Disappointed with this answer, I dropped him and sighed.

"You can't stop bad things from happening," I replied, scowling at my leg, "which is why I need my leg to heal so I can get back to work."

* * *

I told them I was going out for a walk, and Sam got worried, because of my leg. I told him it was fine, that I could still walk. I, after all, survived _it_.

Heaving out a long sigh, the night wind blew against my hair, whipping it across my face. It felt good, the wind, so I let out a satisfying smile. The moon was full tonight, so I could see what was on the streets. My eyes widened, cause I saw something I thought I would never see.

I thought the Camaro was strange, and now my suspicions-yet admirations- grew when I sat it parked right next to me. I arched an eyebrow, cocking my head.

"Hmm. If the car's right here, where's the 'jacker?" I asked to myself, hastily looking around. I relaxed slightly when I saw no one, yet this was still suspicious. No criminal would leave their prize until after it was out of the police's way. Cautiously, I took a step forward, and it increased until I was right next to the Camaro. Again, I rose an eyebrow and tried to peer through the window, but suddenly, the door opened-I fell back with a yelp- and something pulled my inside, covering my mouth.

I whimpered against the object, and it felt warm, like a human hand. I cursed inside. Damn it all! The 'jacker was probably inside, waiting for someone like me to question or whatever.

However, I heard no voice, only the grip on my mouth and under my bust tightened. Hmm, this dude was lucky humans could breathe through their noses. I squirmed, and their grip only tightened more.

"Ssh. Danger outside," was the only thing I heard before a jet's engine overtook it. I rose my eyebrows again. A jet's engine...

My eyes really widening, I jerked violently and fought against him. No! I didn't want to be here! J-jet's engine... His grip only tightened, but not tight enough to hurt me, but I still fought. Tears almost clouded my eyes, and yet I still fought.

The roaring out the engine came closer.

"Ssh! It's ok!" he hissed in my ear. Suppressing a shudder, I argued back in my head.

_No! It's not ok! _I whined. _H-he's back!_


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers.

A/N: This chapter is a chapter, just a quick flash on Lucia's life. It is short though, though I promise the next one will be long. Please review! There' so many alerts and favorites(thanks by the way) but I need some feedback, since I do make mistakes from time to time.

* * *

I had finally stopped struggling against the hand, but that didn't mean everything was okay. The jet's engine got closer, so daringly close that I swore it was right next to the Camaro. My mind instantly flew towards the events that happened on that day, when that...thing had come out of nowhere.

We had nowhere to go, they pushed me into the bushes on accident, where another one of those...things was hiding. I had never been so scared in my whole damn life, and yet they stood up for me, pushed me towards safety as I had to stay hidden while they fought.

I was foolish to not listen to them.

I wanted to help, wanted to do something, but all I did was get in the way, all I did was be a burden to them.

Yet, even their sacrifices were in vain, those words came out of their mouths themselves. They said they couldn't protect me. I, at the time, was thrown into panic. I didn't even know my leg was so damaged beyond repair.

I didn't even move when they did the surgery on me. Their bodies were buried at their home countries, so I couldn't go see them. I was under doctor's order, so I couldn't go anywhere.

My first action when I was mobile again was to go to their home countries. However, the head of the FBI stopped me, took away all my duties until I was a stable agent, that I wouldn't doze off every second. He ordered me to stay with a friend I knew, and not to mention the events of that day.

Apparently, they were in cahoots with this agency called Sector-7. I had a bad feeling about those people. They were able to persuade the head of the FBI to be on their side. He even considered making me work for them. I had refused, and had ran out of the hospital room, taking my badge and gun with me.

I am such a horrible person.

I lied to the Witwickys, saying I would go back. If they were to find out the truth, you knows what would happen. What if the FBI found them, blamed them and put them in prison, all because of me? I shouldn't have gone to them, I should've become 'dead' to the world.

It's too late to go back though. It's too late, and now that thing is back for me. Everyone will get hurt, and that memory will come up again and add to my empty self. The 'Lucia' Sam and the other know is a fake, the personality I had created since I was like an empty shell.

Who would smile like I did when people sacrificed themselves for me, when their sacrifice was in vain?

Archibald Witwicky was wrong.

Sacrifice will never bring victory.

Never.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers.

A/N: It's finally Thanksgiving Break readers! But that doesn't guarantee updates! ^o^

* * *

Bumblebee didn't get the femme. Why was she so scared?

Well, she suddenly got pulled inside a car, so he couldn't partially blame her.

How could he help it? There was a Decepticon in the area.

Her body went rigid against him, and he took that as a sign to loosen his grip on the femme. Starscream was still nearby, so he couldn't release her just yet. Once he was sure the Seeker was well away from the area, he compeltely released the femme.

It was then that she abruptly turned and smacked her fist into his face. Bumblebee sure didn't expect that, but humans can't really harm holoforms, but it still caused SOME pain at least. He stared shock at the femme, and noticed her face was very pale, and her ocean blue eyes were filled with shock and fear, yet a hint of pride.

She brought her fist down, as Bumblebee stared at her, both not knowing what to do. It was then that the femme spoke: "Who the hell are you?"

The tone was threatening. She spoke on.

"Why are you in this Camaro? Why did you pull me into this car?" she snapped, glaring. Bumblebee wasn't a medic like Ratchet, yet he could still scan her, and the condition, emotional that it, of her body was not good at all. She was filled with fear, despite her acting all tough and snappy.

"The question is, who are you? Why were you taking a walk at night by yourself?" this would be a good start.

"I'm asking questions around here! Do you have registration for this car? Lemme see 'em!" the femme held out a badge, and Bumblebee read, 'Lucia Jones' before she put it back in her pocket. Slag. Bumblebee wasn't expecting this. How could he say that he was the car itself?

"Miss Jones, calm yourself."

"Hell nah! Why was there a military jet flying around this area?" she changed the subject. Again, Bumblebee had no reasons. He couldn't say that it was actually a Decepticon. He noticed that the fire died away, and she was shaking.

"I do not know the answer, but..." he reached around her and opened the door, "you can leave now. Your safety is guaranteed."

Lucia opened her mouth to say more, but fortunately, she seemed to be out of fuel. She slumped some and sighed.

"You don't seem like a car thief. So this must be a different Camaro." she muttered, bending down to pick up her crutches. She walked away, casting a glare at his direction.

Once she was out of view, Bumblebee sighed heavily before turning off his holoform. That went well.

* * *

Lucia kept on muttering as she quickened her pace. That boy was suspicious, no doubt, but she was too tired at deal with any crap. She looked up at the night sky, where trails of smoke were left. Frowning, she froze.

_Is it really that jet? Or is it just coincidence? _she thought, then drew in a sharp gasp as she fell to her good knee, clutching her ribs. _Agh...damn it...my leg is acting up too..._

Cursing, she lifted her shirt a little, and bit back a gasp. There were growing bruises where her ribs should be. She wanted to slam her head onto a rock.

_Well, this is just dandy, _she sarcastically thought, _I'm out here miles from the Witwicky's with broken ribs and my legs won't move. Fantastic!_

The roaring of an engine caught her ears, and a yellow blur sped past her. She ignored it and supported herself with her crutches, struggling to get to the Witwicky's.

* * *

It took longer than Lucia thought, but soon, she was tackled by Judy, was was having a total panic attack.

"Lucia! What happened? You were gone so long!" she wailed. Lucia laughed nervously, before regaining her fake self.

"Nothing, Judy. I just got stalled," she offered a smile, and Judy sniffed.

"Go to bed, young lady!" Judy's face changed.

"Yes, Judy," she laughed, perking up when her legs started to work again and she went upstairs, where she heard snoring from behind a door. Shaking her head in amusement, she went on towards her room, where she flopped onto bed.

"Agh...feel like crap!" she groaned softly, clutching her ribs. "Stupid karma!"

Slowly, she unwrapped her leg cast, and grimaced at the site.

"Yeesh, the doctor's said it was supposed to be my leg, but that SO doesn't look like one...yuck," she shuddered, closing her eyes and going to sleep.

Soon after, a jet's engine roared, but Lucia was sound asleep, only turned and muttered in her sleep: "Starscream...let go of her...leave her alone!"

Followed by screams.

* * *

Please review! I mean it! I'm not sure where I'm going with this story though. XD


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers.

A/N: I just got inspired to continue this, although I still have no idea where I'm going with this. XD

Currently, I am stuck with a laptop without Microsoft Word, and I have to resort to WordPad. -_-' Stupid computer virus. My other laptop got the virus, and I am using this laptop. I dunno, just felt like venting my frustrations out.

* * *

**(Lucia's POV)**

My name was being called many times, and I opened my eyes, only to stare at Sam's worried brown ones. I stayed silent, and Sam kept on shaking me back and forth, until my fist shot straight up.

"Ever heard of personal space?" I asked threateningly, cracking my knuckles.

"You were screaming like hell!" Sam protested, putting his arms up in defense. "Besides, I just wanted to know if-"

"Get. Out. Of. My. Room." I glowered at him. He paled considerably and sped out faster than I could blink. I blinked. "Dang..."

I shrugged in absentmindedness, getting my crutches and walked to the bathroom to brush my teeth. It was then that I heard Sam's screaming that I chocked on my toothpaste. I quickly rinsed my mouth and rushed downstairs, only to slip on...

...milk.

"Oh come on! This was my new jeans too!" I complained as my jeans started to get soaked with milk. I glared around, only to find no sign of anybody in the kitchen. Arching an eyebrow, Mojo the chihuahua suddenly tackled me, his muddy paws dampening my white shirt.

"Mojo!" I exclaimed. "Get off of me!" I pushed the dog off and gathered my crutches, careful to avoid slipping. I walked towards the opened garage, where I found Sam just speeding off on a pink bike.

"Samuel! If I get in trouble for your clumsiness I am so gonna-" my words were cut off as I shifted my attention to a familiar yellow car that seemed to creep forward slowly. Then, almost as if it met my eyes, it started to speed up and chase Sam. I blanched, staring after it before my leg started to wobble and I collapsed.

"Yeesh...my life gets weirder and weirder every day," I mumbled, my back leaning against the cold garage wall. I spotted a cell phone nearby, and crawled to it.

_"Sam? You alright there?"_

It was Miles. Irritated, I pushed the end button while getting up and taking my crutches. Stupid Sam. Making me clean up after his messes. My face hardened later, as I got a towel and plopped it onto the spilled milk, using my foot to spread it and soak in the milk. My head hurt like hell, but I was lost in my own thoughts.

Although that Camaro had tinted windows, I could sense something...different about him. Same Camaro from last night? Yeah, that was the feeling. The same boy? Honestly, even if the Camaro had tinted windows, I should have seen at least his eyes(they were a startling baby blue, rivaling my ocean blue ones).

The phone suddenly rang, and I froze. The Witwickys weren't home, and I knew it was probably rude to answer their phone, but Judy had told me I could use their phone whenever I wanted to. Not like I had anyone to call anyways. I checked the caller ID. It was unknown. Well now. It could the FBI, Sector-7, or maybe one of Judy or Ron's friends.

No one knows I'm here, and curiosity took over me(no matter how rude it was to answer someone's phone without permission) so I picked it up. What I heard on the other line startled me to the end.

_"Give...me...the...glasses...boy..."_

Every inkling of me told me to slam the phone down and hang up, but this odd familiar feeling told me to stay put.

"Sorry, he's not here right now. Mind if you leave a message for him?" I asked in a sickly sweet tone, so sweet I wasn't sure that it really fit me or not.

_"The...glasses..."_

I frowned. Sam did not wear glasses, and I'm pretty sure Ron doesn't either and-

Ah. The glasses. Sam's great-grandfather wore glasses, which was damaged during a snow fall? Something like that.

"Sorry bub. Wrong number," I stated bluntly before slamming the phone down. Now I had a bad feeling that I shouldn't have done that. Oh well.

* * *

I blinked open my eyes. Ah. I had fallen asleep on the couch, and night was creeping. I sat up, and a blanket fell from my chest. I smiled. Maybe Ron or Judy had done that. I looked around and saw Ron drinking wine and Judy somewhere in the kitchen.

"Is Sam not home yet?" I let myself be known, and Ron jumped.

"Oh. Hi Lucia," Ron greeted.

"Sam hasn't come home yet," Judy walked from the kitchen, and I scooted over so that she could sit on the couch. "But he is about to be grounded!"

"Curfew?" I rose an eyebrow.

"Curfew," Ron responded, turning his attention towards the T.V. Something caught my attention.

_"...it is unknown as to what they are, but we believe that they are maybe meteors..."_

_"I saw it with my own eyes! It was like..."_

_"Dude! Are you seeing this? It's..."_

I frowned, biting my bottom lip. Meteors? And they weren't where they landed. Very suspicious. Then, I heard something slam, I jumped, Ron jumped, and Judy yelped. I looked towards a door where I saw Sam trying to come in. Ron grunted and walked over to him. Judy kept watching T.V.

I gathered my crutches and got up, walking towards the backyard. I heard some thudding, so I decided to go check it out. I saw something yellow pass by, and I froze. Mojo looked up from his food bowl. Judy's attention was still towards the T.V., and Ron was just getting back to his couch. Where was Sam?

"YOU COULDN'T WAIT FOR FIVE MINUTES?"

Needless to say, I was surprised that Ron and Judy didn't hear.

* * *

And I have got this started again! Darn it, I have to start working on my other story too. :/

Please review!


	7. Chapter 7

It's almost been...two years since I last updated...

And during my block...I re-read this story...and realized some parts didn't flow...but all of you still wanted to read it huh...

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers.

* * *

**(Lucia's POV)**

I debated for a while on whether to question on what Sam was doing in the backyard. I couldn't see from where I was since the curtains were just drawn back by Judy. I tilted my head, trying to concentrate more on the conversation going on outside.

It seemed Sam was not alone outside.

"Sam? Who are you talking to?" I called, opening the backyard door. I yelped when suddenly there was a large earthquake, knocking me onto the ground and accidentally throwing my crutches to the ceiling.

"Agh...that kind of hurt..." I rubbed my head, flinching when all the lights went out. Ron and Judy were screaming and freaking out as well...though I think Ron was the one who was yelling the most.

"Lucia! Are you alright?!" Judy raised her voice, scrambling over to me as she took my face in her hands, examining me for bruises or injuries.

"I'll live through it," I reassured, accepting Judy's help and raising myself off the ground. I dusted my pants, leaning against the kitchen counter for support as Judy gathered my crutches for me. "Thank you."

"What is that boy doing?" Ron muttered, crawling out from under the dining room table, grabbing a flashlight. "Stay here Lucia. Judy and I are going upstairs to check up on Sam. Don't go outside."

I nodded, respecting Ron's wishes as I moved to sit down on the couch. I rubbed my injured leg, although I did not touch flesh instead. The cast was still on and secure as ever...

I yelped again when I felt another earthquake, dropping my body onto the ground and clutching a pillow. Mojo came to my side, nosing his face onto my stomach and making himself comfortable.

I smiled, shaking my head and attempted to listen to hear if Ron was yelling at Sam. Nothing. Of course. I didn't have super-hearing. After all, I was just a human, and I am getting old, after all.

"I guess being 23...and hanging around a youngster like Sam..." I shook my head again, wondering why I had lied to Mikaela about my age.

"Lucia!" I heard a loud ruckus, so I sat up and saw Sam scrambling around the kitchen. He was rummaging through his backpack and looking at me.

"..What?" I asked. Sam ignored me, giving out a shout of what seemed to be celebration as he held up a pair of glasses that seemed very ancient.

I saw Mikaela going down the stairs, Ron and Judy in front of her when someone knocked on the front doot. I was already up and moving towards it, but Ron beat me to it, giving me a look that said to not act any further.

I chuckled, putting my right hand up in defeat as I backed away. Satisfied, Ron opened the door as I turned around to go speak with Sam and Mikaela. I was curious, when had Mikaela come? She didn't come through the front door, as far as I could remember.

Unless Sam was hiding her in his room and...

I used my free hand to slap myself, ridding myself of images. Sam saw me and opened his mouth, but it wasn't his voice that followed the words I heard echo throughout the room.

"Well, well, well. Look at who we have here."

My eyes widened in shock. A lump appeared in my throat and suddenly I felt like I couldn't speak. Slowly, I turned my head and my fears...my fears had come true in that moment.

It was Agent Seymour Simmons...of Sector Seven.

"Agent Jones." he acknowledged me with a nod of his head, a sickening smirk plastered on his face. I swallowed the lump and gathered my courage to speak.

"Agent Simmons." I nodded right back, not making eye contact. I could feel sweat beading at my neck as I hoped to whatever God that existed...I hoped he wouldn't open that big mouth of his...

"Wait, you know each other?" Sam cut in, seeing my discomfort with Agent Simmons and stepping between us.

"You could say that. And you must be Sam, right?" Agent Simmons' smirk was still on his face, as he used a finger to motion more agents inside the house, much to the protest of Ron and Judy.

"So? What of it?" Sam shot back, chin up as he glared at Agent Simmons. I shook my head, grabbing his sleeve.

"Sam...don't talk back..." I muttered. I may have seen the shock in his eyes if I had the courage to look up, but my gaze was still directed towards the floor. I only saw Sam's shoes moving so they pointed towards me.

"Are you kidding me, Lucia?" Sam whispered to me, though Agent Simmons was still in hearing range. "Not that I'm complaining or something, but why don't you use your badge and get these creeps out of our house?" Sam jabbed a finger to the agents in suits. "Like what you did at the police station! You know, you were like-"

"She can't use her badge because she doesn't have the authority to do so." I could hear the smugness...and the truth in Agent Simmons' voice as he interjected in our conversation. "That badge may work for those neighborhood cops, but against Sector Seven, it's only for show. Unlike my badge-" Agent Simmons' reached into his back pocket, pulling out his badge no doubt, for Sam to see. "This is my 'Do-whatever-I-Want-And-Get-Away-With-It- Badge."

"She doesn't have the authority?" Sam questioned.

"Sir, the machine..." one of the other agents whispered in Agent Simmons' ear, and his grin just grew bigger.

"Excellent! Boy, you and your girlfriend are coming with me. Agent Jones...you'll be riding in a different car."

"What?" at least I had some valor left, for I finally had the courage to bring my head up and look at Agent Simmons in the eyes. "What have they done wrong? It's not their fault! I ran here myself, so you have no right to-"

"Calm down." Agent Simmons placed a hand on my shoulder, and I flinched. "They're not under arrest for harboring a rouge agent. You see, the reason they're under arrest is classified and you do not have the right to speak, since you are no longer part of the FBI."

Before I could protest more, I felt hands reaching into my pocket where my badge was. I couldn't fight against them because I was still supporting myself with crutches and one hand alone was not enough to prevent them from taking my badge.

"Former Agent Jones, you are under arrest for the assault of multiple FBI agents two months ago. Please hand over your gun." Agent Simmons ordered. I grit my teeth, ready to retort. However, when I turned my head and saw looks of disbelief reflected in all of the Witwicky's faces, I felt my stomach drop and my head hung low.

"..." I reached into my boot, pulling out my gun and handing it over to Agent Simmons. Other agents grabbed my arm and literally dragged me to a black SUV, luckily I was in a car without Ron, Judy, Sam or Mikaela. I only whispered an apology as I passed them, not wanting to hear what they would have to say back as I hurried inside the car.

I ran a hand through my bangs as tears pooled in my eyes.

I...couldn't protect them...


End file.
